The EverEnding Book
by Lilith33
Summary: There was an odd death in Egyptian Ministry's Department of Uncovered History... When Aurors failed is it possible that the group of wizards called Old Magic Masters will find the answer? And how Hermione can help? HGOC with bits of HGSS
1. On the verge of something unusual

DISCLAIMER: Everything recognisable belongs to J.K. Rowling. Everything else is mine!  
  
1. On the verge of something unusual.  
  
Cold, there is so cold ... The dark haired man in white thick robes was shivering violently. Black eyes were moving quickly from shelves full of magic books and odd-shaped keys to the thermometer lying on his desk. Temperature in his office was 36 degrees, he was completely sure. So - what was going on?  
  
Moments like this he desired to be the night guardian rather in room full of half-rotted mummies than in Department of Uncovered History. Things here probably smelt nicer but surely they are more ... living-like than corps of ancient kings.  
  
And that was terrifying. Imagine that you are getting through your daily job routine (it means sleeping peacefully with strong feeling of well fulfilled duty) and something out of the blue sky started to groan just outside your office door. What you are up to do in supposed life danger situation like that?  
  
The man knew exactly how to react. Without any hesitation he threw himself under his desk and knelt there with fingers clinched tightly on his wand.  
  
"W-who's there?" he asked politely the misty, freezing darkness. The darkness wasn't eager enough to answer. "OK." he said after long silent break "I will better say: What is there?"  
  
They usually were giving any sign of activity. Frankly speaking - always. But not that night. Like if something was waiting till man's curiosity would calm down.  
  
But man wasn't brave at all. He wasn't curious. He wanted only to be left in peace. And he decided not to leave his shelter. But there was getting colder and colder.  
  
"Flamelis!" hi waved his wand desperately but. nothing happened. The simple charm didn't operate!  
  
Man stared at his breath changed into white cloud of frozen air. So cold ...  
  
***  
  
"I-I cannot believe!" the little round-faced black-haired wizard was dashing through long corridor of IAS quarters. It was like the very angry Bludger found his way to freedom and now tried to attack as many objects as possible. The sculpture of Abraham Nott the Greatest Auror of Nineteen Century was then beheaded and the picture of Bruce Grampon the Seven-Head Monster Killer had an awful flaw on Bruce's chin.  
  
Just behind the evil piece of destruction was running very tall and thin wizard with frightened look on his freckled face. He just have caught the falling sculpture of Lysia Phantom when the round one said that full of despair words.  
  
"B-but sir!" gasped the thin one trying to stop his boss. "We just have been given the full report from Egyptian Ministry of Magic!"  
  
The little wizard in long purple robes, who was seemingly Surrendus Brewett, The General of the International Aurors Society, suddenly turned to his employee. He looked very annoyed if judge by his tomato-like face. Little black eyes were glittering dangerously.  
  
"Those idiots!" he hissed looking straightly into younger wizard's face. He grabbed his green, seemingly bright new robes and drew him nearer. The thin man was in a hard shock, his freckles completely paled. But that was not disturbing the General who continued with more tempered voice "Can you believe that well-trained wizard, completely sane and in good physical condition may have died by ... being frozen?"  
  
"Basing on pure facts exactly that happened two days ago."  
  
"And there was n o t h i n g stolen!" Brewett's face was now white with rage "Their Auroros are completely helpless! There was no sign of using any know charm or curse - only this icy mist! And what we are supposed to do? We have sent our best staff for hours ago and they just have said that they can't help! It will destroy our worldwide fame of best detectives!"  
  
"But if it was ... You-Know-Who?" young wizard sighed nervously "He is exceptionally good in this kind of things. You know, sir, stealing, murdering and disappearing without any sign of his previous existence." Brewett smiled bitterly.  
  
"No, it's surely not his style. And there would have been any sign of using wand. Moreover Dumbledore confirmed my predictions about our dear friend. He is now up to other things. But it is his part of job." Brewett smirked, tapping lightly his IAS badge "Remember about our dependency of Ministries, English one too. We cannot even think about it."  
  
Young wizard nodded and continued "So ... might it be some kind of equipment they are keeping there? What if one of them has learnt how to murder people?" wizard's water-blue eyes grew wider. His freckles were now completely invisible.  
  
"I don't. Hsss!" both the general and his employee felt silent when pretty well-known tapping echoed in empty corridor. The portrait of black haired witch in madly red robes gave out a little giggle.  
  
"Morning, Alastor" said Brewett a bit coldly to the men in black robes "There is nothing to do today, I feel."  
  
"Hmm. Having a little problem, aren't you?" Moody smiled widely, what made young wizard's stomach start making some unpleasant movements.  
  
"Nothing special" the General shuddered "Only a little piece of our job. We are getting well with it."  
  
"So - Nice day." Moody yawned rather not-discretely and went to the main staff room.  
  
"Why are you so uneager to inform him?" asked the young wizard.  
  
"Because" General's voice was rather dull "In order to not lose society's trust we are compelled to call fore some specialists. Like that one who really dislike Alastor Moody. I'm talking about Theodore Restaud.  
  
***  
  
'Specialists' was the name he usually called them. The Old Magic Masters. People of whom all the wizards community was afraid. People that were considered dangerous by most of them. But helpful as well, especially in situations where ordinary magic knowledge was useless.  
  
Is it possible to believe wizards who are preparing magic without using wand or any of well-known spells? Who simply know that this strange force called 'magic' is far more than a simple tool useful for cooking apple sauce and desire being extremely cautious when using it? Who always have a reliable explanation for million of things that sometimes happens when wizard is incantating a spell? Surely, the Old Magic, this extremely difficult branch of Arts, was attracting only mentally fixed people. And that was the Old Magic Masters. Anyway, as that they stated in Brewett's mind.  
  
***  
  
Surrendus Brewett took out his wand and tapped lightly the black lion's sculpture nose.  
  
"What is so important that General Brewett eventually decided to use the Member's Room?" groaned the animal friendly, winking his stone eye "I have started to feel a bit lonely there."  
  
"I think you will be no more." Answered Surrendus shortly. The lion grinned and moved aside. Behind him was plain doors made of the same kind of stone the lion was. Now they opened. And Brewett come in.  
  
That was the Member's Room, the most mysterious chamber in IAS quarters. Only the General and people invited by him had the permission to been there. Brewett looked over - everything was the same as the last time he was using it - over a year ago. The black marble was covering everything: ground, walls ceiling and eight sculptures of animals standing in corners. The moment he came in their eyes opened.  
  
There was no windows, no torches, not even a single candle, the light was coming from nowhere as it have been there for ages. And mirrors. The room was full of sparkling, glittering or simply reflecting his shape mirrors. There were probably every type of magical mirror any wizard can find around the world. Some of them were dangerous. One, now covered with black material, had the same effect as basilisk's eyes.  
  
The main aim of creating this room was to contact. Especially with persons who were not available when using some normal forms of contacting like owls or Floo Powder. Brewett took a deep breath, bowed the falcon's sculpture which looked at him curiously and stepped straight opposite the plain mirror in silvery frame. He could see no glittering, twisting or other forms of magic activity but only the picture of a bit puzzled himself. The General always felt strong distaste when he was using the Eyemirror as the object hanging on the wall was called.  
  
Eyemirrors. The basic tools of every Old Magic Masters. Created of the ordinary mirror by using the Eyemirror Potion, that cannot be brew properly by anyone who was not one of them. Yeah, many wizards were trying, but even with proper recipe they were only able to obtain a mixture changing mirror into something useful only to contact. And true Eyemirrors had much more options. Quite interesting options.  
  
But Brewett wanted today only to contact. He reminded himself that the Eyemirror is able to transfer him to some unpleasant places with one-way ticket so he should be really cautious. He took away his wand and touched slightly mirror's surface with his index finger. Around his touch the reflection of black room began to vanish. After a while all the surface was silvery. The falcon's sculpture moved lightly.  
  
"Theodore Restaud, can you hear me?" he said calmly.  
  
"Silence, you idiot!" seemingly very angry masculine voice came from the Eyemirror "If I remember correctly I have sent you a letter asking you very p o l i t e l y ('What an effort!' thought Brewett smiling ironically) not to use the Eyemirror because I think it's not safe now! And ensuring you I will visit IAS quarters as soon as possible!"  
  
"I'm not supposed to read one million of letters coming to my office everyday!" Brewett smirked "And I ask you politely to use politically correct language."  
  
"Oh, how I love every one of you, bureaucratic narrow-minded officials." Said the voice very coldly. He seemed not to notice the last remark. "But you are supposed to read this one which may save your head and other parts of body. So you just have understood that you know completely nothing about that so-called 'murderer'? And old Theo Restaud is obtained to help you in your pathetic tragedy of disability to do anything?"  
  
"Please, don't talk to me in this tone!" Brewett started to be very impatient "And what kind is the danger that is able to disturb the Greatest Old Magic Master in his daily routine? Is it You-Know-Who?"  
  
"I'm not interested in this prat called Voldemord" the voice became a bit evil "That is something completely without connection with your Dark/Light War. But - wait for me"  
  
The Eyemirror again started reflecting the room. And Brewett who was muttering under his breath:  
  
"What a disrespect for the law representative! Sometimes I understand why Alastor loath him so much!  
  
***  
  
The falcon cried unexpectedly what made Brewett jump. Sniggering just behind him was without any doubt belonging to Restaud. He turned his face to the overjoyed wizard, his cheeks completely red.  
  
"I have never seen any official behaving like his most inexperienced employee" said Theodore with ugly smile "What an interesting view for your voters." his intensively red eyes glittered "Oh, sorry! I forget to be politically correct, forgive me!"  
  
"Stop joking, Mr Restaud, it's not time for this" said Brewett as coldly as he managed to.  
  
"As you wish" tall wizard's appearance immediately becomes deadly serious. And rather frightening. He was, or used to, be a vampire, Brewett was completely sure. Pale oval face, thin mouth, red, always screwed up eyes looking straightly into his under a great amount of hay-colored hair and this awful long teeth. Brewett has no idea about how this wizard-like creature managed to live in day light - that was one of this damned Old Magic Masters secrets. But he was sure about the other thing.  
  
"Er-" he said focusing his sight on silvery falcon fastening Restaud's dark blue cloak. "I prefer you smiling. But, back to the point, are you supposing something?"  
  
"I'm rather sure about something." Restaud raised the eyebrow "It was stolen."  
  
"What 'it' means?"  
  
"I don't know now. I'm lacking some important information to find out this. But that will be the simplest part of our investigation."  
  
"But how you understood ..."  
  
"Some signs that cannot be overlooked. We have different methods of sniffing." The wizard grinned terribly.  
  
"Wait!" Brewett become evil again "It means that you were informed long before the IAS was given any damned report!"  
  
"What an interesting observation! I've never suspected that you have such a brilliant mind!" Restaud smirked "So - don't worry and sleep peacefully. Heimallion is now over it."  
  
"He- what?"  
  
"Oh, it's only my little organization."  
  
"Do authorities know about it?" Brewett looked at Old Magic Master suspiciously "I mean - is it legal?"  
  
Theodore Restaud started to laugh so loudly that the monkey's sculpture put it's hands on it's ears (meaningful gesture).  
  
"Oh, you naïve boy." He said to the madly red General who was dreaming about large wodden pegs desired especially in Restaud's heart. "Now I must go. Wait for my next visit and don't worry about your dear reputation. And - pass on my greetings for Moody because of his seventy birthday. Heh, someone is getting older."  
  
He disappeared noiselessly with a lot of blue light.  
  
"I hate him!" groaned Brewett after a while, breaking still silence in Member's Room. "He said me completely nothing! How - How he dares to treat me the way like this! I felt like a complete idiot! And this Heimallion. Hmmm."  
  
***  
  
Far away from IAS quarters (now full of people singing more or less enthusiastically some ambitious pieces like: "Haaapy birthdaaay tooo youuu!" or "Who will not drink and sing will be thrown to the sink!") , England and all Europe two human shapes were standing just behind one, very sad camel shape.  
  
"Ow! My poor back!" said one of them who was possessing long curly hair and black velvet cloak with seemingly woman's voice.  
  
"I've warned you not to use the Eyemirror if you don't know exact position of landing" said the other witch in green robes shaking her head despisingly "And you really didn't need to threw this poor Arabian into dragon's nest, Leo."  
  
"Dragon will not even notice his guest, Pat" Leo shuddered "He is completely blind."  
  
"But if this man start to cry in panic?"  
  
"It's his business."  
  
"What?"  
  
"He should not laugh at me. Think better about our damned mission. What Theo means by searching for something t h e r e?" She pointed at the nearest sand dune.  
  
"Hmmm. I've just found a great deal of sand. Quite interesting. Have you brought a spade with you?"  
  
"You are crazy!"  
  
"But - think a bit! There is a thing. Suppose it's visible. It's material, have a defined fracture. And to top it all it is transmitting exactly the same magic waves as this missing 'something' in Department of Uncovered History. Interesting, isn't it?"  
  
A loud snort.  
  
"Of course, it might be just the same object but think also, Pat. About both of us turning upside down all the Sahara while searching for something microbe sized. Stunning vision, isn't it? Theodore must have a great fun now. OK, don't look at me the way like this!"  
  
"But you can't see!" Pat sighed. There was completely dark as the night was half it's way through the empty lifeless sand. Her friend's face was barely visible.  
  
"But I can imagine" said Leo and looked down. "For our dear boss it is that place. For me - one of similary looking-like sand dunes. But I'm obedient, I will say nothing. The Great Digging is about to begin! Pat - Light!"  
  
The witch clenched her hand into fist and shook it. Then she opened it - there was a blazing spark on the middle of her palm. She blown it out cautiously - it felt onto the ground and started to grew. After ten seconds there was daylight in radius if about two kilometers.  
  
"Oh. Don't you think that you overdo it a bit?" asked Leo calmly.  
  
Her friend, now it was possible to notice that she had short dark brown hair and big round chestnut eyes looking openly at everything smiled widely.  
  
"Don't you remember that we are supposed to go through this entire desert?"  
  
"Of course!" Leo winked and out of her black cloak (fastened with exactly the same falcon-shaped silver clip as Theodor's) she took the Eyemirror.  
  
She was holding it face down for a moment and next looked at it. "Come on, darling. Let us see what's going on" she said softly, examining the Eyemirror's surface. "Yeah, Pat. This mysterious object is right there." She screwed up her bright green almond shaped eyes and shook her head. "It's not going to be easy. Dou you think that the Uncovering Spell will be appropriate?"  
  
"Quite good at the beginning" Pat nodded and raised her hands. The same did Leo, standing straight opposite her.  
  
"Open your mouth and let us get in!" - ordered the curled-hair witch in Old Speech. Pat repeated her words and the sand between them started whirling up and flowing away. And after a while ...  
  
"A hole." said Pat after a long moment of shock. "I see a hole."  
  
"Quite ... err ... deep hole" Leo added her bright observation to her friend's one. "What we are going to do with this. hole?" She looked into the Eyemirror and said slowly, like she was considering every word:  
  
"It is a deep, dark hole made of some kind of stone with Egyptian inscriptions on it's walls, leading to ... end of mirrors range. It seems it is friendly."  
  
Pat gasped. "How the hole is supposed to be friendly?" she asked.  
  
"I have no idea. It's just my impression. Like it is inviting us to come in."  
  
"So - should we do it?"  
  
The answer came quite unexpectedly with a load of falling sand and, additionally, two swirling and cursing witches. After few moments everything ended. In complete darkness.  
  
"Here we are" summed up Pat.  
  
"Ow! My damned back!"  
  
"You are repeating yourself."  
  
"It's becoming quite irritating! Ashta re breva!"  
  
"Stop cursing in the Old Speech, please!" there was a loud gasping somewhere, belonging to Pat "Do you forget that you are allowed to use it only for incantating spells? You should be more cautious!"  
  
"I am cautious! Wanna some light?"  
  
A little spark appeared on Leo's hand. And it was sufficient. For a third party there were nothing more but the stone chamber, a very regular one with some inscriptions on the wall. But the fallen Eyemirror's surface was completely black. And two witches' eyes were looking into each others', both widened in horror.  
  
"We are in enormous trouble" said Leo very firmly 


	2. Anciency never pays off

2. Anciency never pays off  
  
"Er ... Hello? Is anybody here?"  
  
"Good morning, sir. This is the International Aurors Society's Emergency Line for Endangered Muggles. Are you sure that you are a Muggle?"  
  
"Damn, of course I'm not! I'm Egyptian Minister of Magic and I want ..."  
  
"If you are not a Muggle try any other form of contacting, please."  
  
"I've already tried everything! All your Floo lines are inaccessible! Have all IAS staff suddenly disappeared? I must talk with General Brewett, now!"  
  
"Sorry, but I can't help you. Have a nice day."  
  
Click!  
  
Ali Dahim threw the receiver with furious movement and begin to circle his desk. He, Minister of Magic, had no possibilities to get in touch with the worldwide organization! It was simply ridiculous! Especially in this situation, when their presence were essential. What they were paid for? There were obviously more useful ways of spending money than on the organization which was doing completely nothing.  
  
"Sir?" the secretary opened his office's door cautiously like she was aware of possibility of some heavy objects flying straightly at her. "There are two visitors outside."  
  
"May I guess?" Dahim smirked. " 'Daily Prophet'? 'The Wizarding Community'? 'Magic Everywhere'? 'The Phoenix'? 'Veritaserum'? Other type of life- sucking newspaper? Say to this nice journalists that we are not interested in cooperation with them."  
  
"But sir, they are only the IAS experts."  
  
"At last! Let them in!"  
  
**  
  
Dahim glanced suspiciously at two men who were standing politely at the other side of his desk. To make it absolutely clear, one of them was standing politely. The second one seemed to be a person who even didn't make any effort to check in the vocabulary what the word 'politeness' means. Now this young Arabian leaned on Minister's desk grinning widely.  
  
This more polite guy was as well more interesting one. He was barely smiling, as if he didn't wish anyone to have even a glimpses on his teeth. For one short but tense moment Dahim locked his eyes with his, deeply red and rather terrifying. 'The vampire' thought Dahim. He hade a strong feeling that he is somehow familiar with this person.  
  
"Er ... IAS experts?" he asked, looking intensively at his calendar.  
  
" It depends." said the vampire-like man smiling ironically. "Of course, officially we are working for IAS. If you wish to see our identity cards ..."  
  
"Oh, yes!" Dahim's eyes glittered in recognition. "And surely you have no wands, aren't you?"  
  
"Precisely."  
  
"Idiots!" Minister hissed jumping on his feet. The Arabian looked furiously at him and rose his hand. But his comrade who was no one but Theodore Restaud himself didn't even bother to move or change his facial expression. This made Dahim start to feel a bit awkwardly. "Er ... Sorry. It was about- "  
  
"About some infallible Aurors who this moment appear to be rather fallible?" asked Restaud politely. "Especially because it is the Tomato's Sculpture Day?"  
  
"Anyway, I require some respect for Old Magic Masters!" said the Arabian with dangerous voice.  
  
"Calm down, Nyrth." something in vampire's tone made his companion looks a bit frightened. It could be the irritation but so hidden that for Dahim nearly impossible to sense. "It is fully understandable that in situation like this the Minister feels nothing less than a cold fury, isn't it?"  
  
"Great thanks for your support." Dahim smiled bitterly. "By the way, what is this Tomato's Sculpture Day?"  
  
"A kind of ridiculous European Auror's celebration." Restaud smirked "They choose one of their previous enemies who are now in freedom and through all day they make fool of him."  
  
"Merlin's beard!" exclaimed the Minister "And who is their victim this year? Poor man!"  
  
"Better not to know." murmured the Arabian.  
  
"Some sadistic abilities need to reveal itselves sometimes." Theodor summed up "But coming back to the point, we are here to help you with your 'little problem'."  
  
"Is it so serious? I feel yes, because if not you hadn't arrived here."  
  
"We haven't decided yet. But anyway IAS isn't informed about our escapade. Not that he doesn't know anything, but ... you understand." the man winked what made Dahim shiver lightly. He wasn't the most eager one to talk with red-eyed people. Anyway, anything was better than the journalists. "Of course, we need your permission for working in your country. Everything legal."  
  
"I'm quite eager to give you it." said Minister coldly "And even without IAS knowledge. But firstly you must say me something about your suspicions about this odd murder."  
  
"Naturally. And- Oh! What an impertinent prat I am! Of course, I've forgotten to introduce us. I'm Theodore Restaud, the Old Magic Master, as you have noticed. And this is Nyrthan Gan-Abar, my young fellow, the Old Magic Master too. "  
  
"Theodore Restaud? Dahim rose his eyebrows "I've heard somewhere about you."  
  
"I suppose it was connected with this so-famous 'Four Sword's Prophecy'. It was the first and the last time I was collaborating with the Phoenix Order, nearly sixteen years ago." As usually, when he was talking about the Order something evil for one moment shadowed his eyes.  
  
"Probably yes." Dahim admitted "Do you think that it was a mere truth that Dumbledore with only two Aurors stopped all You-Know-Who's army? Quite unbelievable."  
  
Restaud smiled very coldly.  
  
"Don't believe newspapers. If you wish, I will tell you the true story one time. But now - let's see your unpredictable Department of Uncovered History. I suppose you are quite curious about what really happened there."  
  
**  
  
Somewhere deep in the golden sea of sand was the oasis village. About two hundred of inhabitants kept living there. People sensitive like sun rays caressing the white strands of the widest beach worldwide. And hard like the weather five steps from oasis. Alive, despite the whole clime which was against their existence. Quite mysterious nation called Nomands  
  
The only visitors in this somewhat peaceful place were caravans. Lots of dark men with their camels carrying the articles most of which was more mysterious than in your wildest dreams. Arriving, staying merely to rest and next inevitably gone to the unknown destiny. Every week, every season just the same.  
  
That day couldn't be different. When the sun rose softly over the still cold and warm-colored sand some of the inhabitants saw the silhouettes of small caravan heading to the village. Their leader, the black haired man wearing traditional long galabia wasn't someone unusual. His lower part of the face was invisible under the white material, onyx eyes were glittering in soft shadows of tropical flora. Next typical Arabian greeted properly and asked to stay as long as needed to rest and prepare for a long journey.  
  
It seemed that only a single soul from the right beginning found that something is wrong about all the caravan, especially the leader. She was a ten years old girl, the daughter of village priest, and a child who was hypersensitive for any kind of magical forces. Probably the next great wizard-to-be. She felt the strong smell of the Magic of Dead which was floating above the strangers like toxic fumes of chemical weapon. More powerful than Avada Kedavra, more ancient than Old Magic's Expellination such a force was uncommon even in purest wizarding world. The girl, of course, didn't know that interesting fact. She was just curious about this odd irregularity of magic field. And determined to take a good look at the mysterious man.  
  
She waited till the sun took a good nap in the soft bed of sand and dozen of stars appeared on the unwelcomingly black sky. Leaving her family's quarters she headed for the place where the caravan was sleeping. Soon, she found a tent which their leader was occupying. She stood at the entrance, a shameless black figure on the slightly lighter vastness of the night sky. He was not sleeping yet and right now he was starring at her softly. He nodded and with swift movement of his hand invited to join him in the warm brightness of flickering candle. She hesitated just one moment - because of overwhelming smell of Death - but curiosity won.  
  
"Do you know why are you here?" he asked when she sat down next to him.  
  
"Yes, sir. I wanted to know who are you." she said.  
  
"Hmmm . Wasn't it your privet Fate who brings you here?" he asked smiling mysteriously "I'm not used to little people stucking their noses into my own business. But I also feel the unexplainable urge to say to you what is needed to say."  
  
"I don't believe in Fate." She replied curtly "It was just my own curiousity."  
  
The man laughed softly.  
  
"Because you are not supposed to live long enough to understand the major role of Fate in people's life just put this matter aside. Anyway, you have three questions which you may ask and I am bounded to answer you. So let's start because our time is passing."  
  
The girl nodded slowly. The rules were very well known in Arabian world.  
  
"Am I misguided or it is really the smell of Death lingering in the air around you?"  
  
"You are not."  
  
"Who are you?"  
  
The man smiled coldly.  
  
"Straight question, straight answer." He said with odd voice. Than he blown gently at the direction of the candle. Its fire flickered and became growing becoming something akin mirror. In the deepness of it she saw a shadow of a man . with jackal head.  
  
"Is it efficient?"  
  
She gulped and nodded.  
  
"Give me your heart and I will give you your future." He whispered. "Third question, Madam?"  
  
"Why. why are you here?"  
  
"To leave a sign for my followers. Eternally written all over this beautiful place."  
  
There was no next day. After the night every inhabitant of the oasis was sleeping peacefully in the deepness of white sand. The village was only a dull memory, nothing more material than a leaf of the palm stubbornly sticking from the granular surface. Sand storms sometimes happen.  
  
That story was written in white stone by human's hands, engraved patiently hieroglyph after hieroglyph, like the whole existence of this soul was needed only to pass this so-important information to next generations. Like two witches reading them with horror in their eyes.  
  
Was it this child who made such an effort? How it was possible for her to survive this hell while all the rest of villagers were burned deep in the most common tomb found on the desert? There were no traces of any child's death in the cave but neither Leo nor Pat wanted to search for them. Their consciousness was telling them what Fate eventually met the little girl, and that was quite efficient. Now, the most important thing was to get out. And because there were seemingly no way back they should go through the only exit visible - the narrow corridor leading downwards. And the pictures of Anubis all over the walls weren't exactly mood-enlightening. As well as the Eyemirror's constant silence.  
  
**  
  
On the other side of the Nile, straight opposite Luxor is the smaller city. Often abandoned by the tourist excited by the King's Valley, but surely worth to see. The kingdom of joy, love and fecundity. The kingdom of Hathor goddess. Dendera.  
  
Today was her day and the entire city was full of colors: of goddess procession going through the streets, of wedding guests because this day was the best for marriage and of colorful market full of everything a man or a woman need or desire.  
  
"Sapphira! Where are you, you silly girl! You are supposed to help your mother with our food supply! SAPPHIRA!"  
  
"Here, here!" cried the young women drifting through the crowd. She was one of the people who politely could be called as 'well fed'. She has an oval, rather pale face curtained by long, wavy, coal black hair. Her light brown eyes was always shining with those unhealthy curiosity which often leads people to some unpleasant situations. Lips, a bit too small, and nose which often were making some odd rabbit-like movements was complementing the description of maybe friendly but rather not attractive girl.  
  
"Where are you wandering when you are needed here?" asked sharply her mother, a woman in her late thirties and obviously exhausted by the existence.  
  
"Oh, sorry but I wanted to see this gorgeous procession ."  
  
"Are you? I suppose it's just the same as the previous year. You better take a good look at all those fabulous men marrying their women today. It's exactly that matter which should focus your attention now. You will better hurry up because if not you will find yourself a spinster with no one to take care of you. And I don't care about those absurd your father keeps telling. An arranged marriage isn't anything bad."  
  
"Really?" murmured the woman smiling sadly.  
  
"Of course it's not! I got married in age of fifteen and I'm perfectly happy! You are now eighteen! For nearly everyone too old for a wife!"  
  
"So, it should be someone special, shouldn't he?" Sapphira cut off. They walked in heavy silence till they got to their house. She dropped the food and turned on her heel.  
  
"Wait! Where are you going?"  
  
"To dad! I will be here for dinner!" she said and rushed through the door.  
  
**  
  
"Hi! What are you up to?" Sapphira asked curiously her father, the elder man with bright eyes and cunning smile. They were standing in the middle of the archeological camp. Yes, that was exactly what her precious dad was doing. Finding the mysteries of ancient Egypt in soft deepness of Sahara's sand. "Still digging out this mysterious new tomb?"  
  
"Exactly, my love." He said with odd glint in his eyes "And we have a little surprise for you. Good, that you are so early. You will be the first."  
  
"The first to what?" she asked feeling her heart try to jump out of her chest.  
  
"To destroy the peace of the sleeping history." He said softly. He took her hand and guided her to the huge hole in the ground. There was entrance to the tomb.  
  
"Oh!" Sapphira was never such excited in whole her life. That made her speechless. The possibility to be the first visitor in the other world, where the good souls goes in ancient Egypt.  
  
"Shhh. Don't wake up the Death."  
  
They went down the ladder and into the tomb. Her father lit the torch and they pass the long corridor and get to the main chamber. In the weak light they saw lots of odd hieroglyphs covering the walls.  
  
"Interesting." said her father quietly. "I'm not well educated in reading hieroglyphs but it seems that they are in some way connected with Anubis. See?" he pointed at the hieroglyph in shape of jackal-headed god.  
  
"But Anubis is one of the death gods, isn't he? This one who weigh dead people hearts. He should be present here."  
  
"But surely not in such quantity. It's uncommon. But we will think about it later. Now we should open this catafalque." He turned to the entrance "Hey! Come here, guys! A big work to do!"  
  
Four strong men appeared and with great effort pulled away a solid stone board. Than every of them looked inside.  
  
There was no mummy. Only the skeleton of a quite small person, or a child. And a roll of papyrus.  
  
**  
  
"Alastor, it was simply brilliant!" shouted General Brewett, all time trying to find the stubborn bottle of Firewhisky which suddenly disappeared. "Superb!"  
  
"I 'ow 'at. Bloody 'ell 'ow." Moody grinned insanely and take another gulp of Brewett's whisky. "You 'ow what, Sever . pff! Surrendus? We 'ould repeat 'is next year!"  
  
"Yeah, we should." Brewett had dreamy expression "And you see? One day free make no harm to anyone. Surely, what can happen in one innocent day?"  
  
"N'thing." mumbled Alastor half-conciously.  
  
**  
  
Have you liked it? Review than, please. I know that this story is a bit unusual. It contains a lot of Egyptian mythology and a kind of magic you are not used to. Anyway, do you want more Rowling's world in this story? Give mi your opinion. I know that there might be a lot of awful mistakes. Sorry for that. This story is non-betaed. Any volunteers? 


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